Chapter 18

The Unwritten Score of Endar Rising.

Writer’s block. The bane of all would be song writers. I have been given a task, directly by the general mind you. I am to write down the words and musical notes that I use to perform Endar Rising. The only problem is, I don’t know what to write. See the problem comes with the fact that you can literally begin on any note, from there you establish a pace and pattern that works for you. The rest of the notes for the intro alone are determined by your personal feeling at the time. The important part is establishing a tempo and pace, everything else is unnecessary. Still how does one convey this into two dimensional notes, when Endar Rising is a three dimensional, at least, song.

Perhaps I should begin at the beginning. My playing for Mel had gotten a lot of unwanted attention over the past few weeks. Most notably from the Endarian students who have been thrust upon campus. This of course would then attract the attention of humans who were interested in everything Endarian and suddenly you have a flash mob whenever I am trying to have an intimate moment with my girlfriend.

So, I’ve kept the playing to standard human songs, even going so far as to not play our song as that would cause all types of problems. This is almost worse than I thought what would happen when I was first asked to play the song. At first, I thought I would be asked to never play the song again. Instead, I have been asked to play the song for different Endarian faction leaders. An act I refused, mainly because I don’t want that type of attention. Then General Sharma gave the ultimate carrot.

“I need you to write down the song Endar Rising.” She stated. When I was about to tell her for the dozenth time that I couldn’t she held up a hand, closed her eyes and tried to explain. “I need to tell you about that song. I don’t know how you got hold of that song. Nor how you are aware of that song, but it is likely from the dreams you had upon your awakening. The only problem is… well there are two problems.” Sharma began, then cut herself off as she realized there were two main problems.

“The first problem is that song has been lost to the Endarians for generations now. That is why the Endarians are so interested in you.”

“Wait, it’s not because of my devilish good looks?” I ask, realizing that I cause even seasoned elites to shiver with chills when we lock gazes.

Sharma rolls her eyes, “there might be some of that too. But the truth is, I don’t know how you know that song so well, but it has been lost to the Endarians for multiple millennia now. It is a song that is only passed down as part of the great histories, as the song that first let the Endarians reach space flight. The fact that you have awoken from your trials with knowledge of this song and are able to play it so masterfully is a great blessing for us. As it means we can offer it as part of a cultural exchange.”

Her words are odd, though they do explain why so many Endarians seem to be attracted to me. They aren’t attracted to me, but rather what I can offer them. I guess in a way this is typical behavior of any species. They don’t necessarily care for any one from another species who cannot offer them something in return. The only problem is that I feel there is more to this than the general is letting on. Which is when she answered with.

“The Endarians as you might know were in a constant state of war with the Prolax. Ultimately, they were able to beat back the Prolax, but only at the cost of their home planet. During the war with the Prolaxians, many records of their proud history were lost. Chief among those was the knowledge of how to perform Endar Rising. Therefore, I am asking you as a personal favor to write down what you know of the song.”

So here I am, trying to remember the song that only comes from inspiration. I am also trying to remember what the Prolaxians are.

To make matters worse, she threw fuel to the fire.

“I know you are looking forward to being able to eventually use your weekend passes. What if as a reward for this, we allow you and your class the ability to go on weekend outings early? I will even let everyone from your platoon know that the reason they can now enjoy a weekend away is thanks to you. What do you think of that?” She asked.

The ability to see Mel a month early was more than enough for me to want to try this.

The only problem is, I can’t rightly remember how I learned Endar Rising in the first place? It was so many lifetimes ago and was so prevalent that learning it from one lifetime to the next was just a given. In fact, the Endarians freely gifted the song to the universe, never wanting its harmony to be lost. That was why it is so odd that this song would be denied to this universe. Unless my Unique Universal Theory is on full display with this sudden change in the dynamic of this Universe.

Again, these are all fun hypotheses, by right now I need to write out a song. A song that only has personal meaning, one that can be interpreted multiple different ways by the different people reading it.

I try to remember back to when I first learned the song, but it was somewhere during my first lifetime.

“Begin with inspiration.” The three words come back to me, as I finally remember the process for the song.

From there, I start writing down notes and details. Writing out all five components to the song. I even add in terms like Polar-Unison to explain the way the two overlapping portions of song and singing should always mirror the exact opposite nature of the other. How the focus of the song should remain steadfast in the mind of the performer from beginning to end.

In the end it is more of a how to build your own song, than anything. Which is effectively what Endar Rising really is. Only once I get going that I write down a few of the chorus lines and notes. Those are meant merely for reference and are often avoided at all costs by the truly devoted players. I try to not use them, as they are meant more for a way of having your mind catch up, than for experiencing the moment of the song. Again, weird Endarian customs that hopefully make sense. I know as a human I had a hard time understanding such distinctions at first, but I hope they will make sense in my writing.

I even make sure to write that once an individual truly internalizes the notes and purpose of the song, even the standard chorus will be dismissed as irrelevant.

By the time I am done, I have what looks more like a detailed research paper than an actual song written on sheet music. There are sheet music components of course, but there are also sound wave graphs depicting the rising and overlapping polar harmonies of the song.

I am both exhausted and a little excited when I finally manage to finish the song. I am so excited that I barge into the general’s office the next day, the stack of papers in my hand. I must look mad; I know I didn’t sleep all night as I was too motivated to finish this project as quickly as possible. I know myself by this point, even getting the project to 80% completion will be a big deal, but I would never finish if I didn’t push myself. So, I just stayed up all night following the moments. Occasionally, I would pull out my violin to run through a few cords to make sure I remembered the different choruses correctly for each portion.

“What is the meaning of this?” The general asks. She was talking to someone. I sort of recognize the person she is talking to as being important, but I can’t think about that. I was given orders to turn this in as quickly as possible directly to her, and here I am.

“Here!” I shout, as I thrust the stack of documents at her. They are all handwritten, as I had to constantly write, then rewrite the margins of the song.

“Begin with inspiration?” Sharma asks, incredulously. She looks at me like I am crazy. Perhaps I am, I am jittering with the nervous tension of a coffee infused force within my body to keep me going. I could use Cleanse to fix that effect, but I found caffeine is particularly helpful with helping me focus.

I hear a rustling as the person next to me stands. Suddenly I recognize her as General Fellina, the Endarian General. Hearing the first three words must have given her hope, then she turns to me.

“Is that it? Is that our song?” She asks.

Suddenly I am overcome with a wave of emotions from her. All I can do is nod. It takes me a second before I realize I wrote the entire report in Endarian. Well, I guess it makes sense in a way, as that was the language I first learned to perform the song in.

“There are five key portions to the song, and they go as follows: Intro, Rising Action, Peak, Climax, and Repeat, or outro.” Sharma continues reading the introduction. “One must also learn the importance of polar resonance of sound. Keeping the chorus and tempo as two polar but rhythmic components of the whole.”

By the time she is done speaking General Sharma sounds like she has lost all hope in my writing. Especially as “there are only a few chorus portions with words that are written down. And you state here that these should not be performed by masters of the song, but are meant as training aids to help teach mastery?”

“Can I see?” General Fellina asks, she is nearly bouncing as much as I feel my own blood bouncing beneath my skin.

Sharma reluctantly hands the document over. There are multiple components that I stapled, glued, and taped in. Looking at the document it looks more like a children’s research paper on the use of different colored crayons, but it was the best I could do overnight. Tomorrow was the Friday and the start of the weekend after all, so I was excited.

“This…” Fellina trails off after reading the first few pages.

Sharma has a look of resolve fill her face, as she glares at me for a second before turning her attention back to Fellina.

“This is wonderful.” Fellina says as a single tear begins pouring down her face. Then she hugs the document tightly to her chest. “I can even feel your inspiration in this work. This is wonderful. To think that only by aligning ourselves with the humans could we once again regain that which is most vital to us.” She states.

“You might want to make a copy of that.” I say, realizing the way she is folding the parchment tightly to her chest.

“Oh, right.” She says, as she pulls forth the document and holds it out at arm’s length, admiring it with the same smile a mother would show her newborn.

There is an awkward moment of silence that passes between everyone. Sharma still seems caught off guard by everything, but quickly recover before Fellina can.

“So, I take it, this document is satisfactory from our end of the agreement?” Sharma asks.

“This? Yes, this is more than satisfactory.” Fellina says.

“Good, I will need to make a quick scan copy of everything for documentation purposes. Then this portion of our arrangement will be complete?” She asks.

“Yes, I will have the resources we agreed to here by next Tuesday.” Fellina says, handing over the document once again to Sharma, who quickly scans the different pages with her communicator. Then after all fifteen pages or so are recorded, she closes the stack of papers and hands them back to the general.

Ping.

I receive a ping, giving me a copy of the document as well.

With that we are allowed to leave.

***

The next day, Friday, true to form, General Sharma was out in front of our evening formation.

“I have some good news for you cadets. One of you among us has performed a nearly impossible task. They managed to solidify a lasting partnership with the Endarians. We now have a seven-year co-operative exchange program with the Endarians. Meaning that many of you will be able to transfer to their sister Academy next year. In exchange for this lasting measure of co-operation between our two races, this cadet only wanted one thing. He wanted his fellow cadets to be able to take weekend leave passes immediately. It is with that in mind that, not only will I grant you all the ability to take weekend leave passes immediately. I will also grant you one weekend pass that can be taken immediately.”

“Yes.” Everyone whispers excitedly as they turn to their fellow classmates.

“Who did it?”

“Was it you?”

The general holds up a hand and releases a bit of her psychic force over the crowd. Instantly most go back to the states they were in moments ago. This causes the others who were not cowed by the gesture to follow their example anyways.

“If you want to find out…” She begins, but I give a subtle shake of my head, no.

I don’t really care if they appreciate what I did or not. Truthfully, I just did this so I could see Mel. Everyone else getting the weekend off was just a bonus.

Fortunately, the general saw my gesture and paused. “If you want to find out who did such an action that allows you to be released with a pass, a FULL week before the platoon ahead of you? I suggest you ask around. The answer is sure to come up eventually. Dismissed.”

No sooner does she say this, then a voice calls out.

“You needn’t look any further. It was me. I helped an Endarian get to the library just yesterday. It has likely gotten around about how helpful I am already.” Chet says, with that I roll my eyes and begin to walk away.

As I walk a familiar scent rushes up and falls into pace beside me. It is the smell of vanilla and honey, one that sets my senses on fire by just being in proximity. I’d know that smell anywhere, even in a strangely messed up universe like this one.

“That was you, wasn’t it?” Jess asks.

I shake my head. “I don’t know what you mean.” I say getting to an intersection and then turning to the left. Unfortunately, Jess follows me in my turn.

“It was that song. The one you perform?” Jess asks.

“Look if I tell you the truth will you leave me alone?” I ask.

Hearing my words and the harshness in my voice she cowers slightly. No, cower isn’t the right word. “Why do you hate me so much? Every time you look at me, you have this look?” She asks while shaking her shoulders. There is clear pain in her eyes.

Hearing her words and seeing the pain in her face, I can’t help but feel a bit of shame at my actions. “Look, I’m sorry. I know you haven’t done anything to me, and I apologize if I treat you harshly. The truth is, you just have the face of my ex, and…” I trail off. I want to say that she has a punch-able face, but that isn’t right. So, I compromise and go for the easier route. “She betrayed me, multiple times. It, it was a lot…for me.”

This is true, such acts in the past broke me, at least partly.

“These were me from your past visions?” She asks.

Suddenly I look at her and feel not only betrayal, but vulnerable. These were secret sessions; how did she know? I am about to ask when she beats me to the punch.

“If you are wondering how I knew, then know it was Chet. After he found out about you, he apparently hacked into the personal notes of Dr. Charleston and his official report on your condition that was given to the Lead DI.” She speaks.

With that, I nod. Of course, Chet. I am about to ask what his issue is, but I realize I already know the answer. Or at least I know part of the answer, something to do with psychic resonance feedback warping his senses. Apparently, my powers are so unbalanced between magic and mental powers that just the residual use of my powers can cause an unnerving feeling in most people. In cases like Chet, it alters his entire brain chemistry as his brain is literally trying to fight off the unwanted psychic energy. Thus, his seemingly irrational hatred towards me. The truth is being near me is literally making him go crazy, as it could likely cause others. I need to be able to find a way to deal with both him and others who might be sensitive to my ability levels. I have since cut out the use of my Psionic abilities, at least while around him. But even practicing with the General leaves enough residual energy that sensitives like Chet and others can feel the feedback.

Silence as I roll over this new thought, that Chet is hacking into the Academy servers.

“Did I…” She trails off before starting again. “I obviously did something to you in those past lives if you still have that look of pain and anger when you look at me. Could you at least tell me what I did?”

Sighing.

Tingle.

My arm tingles for a second, but I ignore it while I decide to answer Jess.

“Look in my past lives, or visions, or whatever they are. We had a great relationship. I gave you everything I had and more. In those past lives I even learned to play the violin for you. That was what got me started on the path of the violin to begin with. I wanted to woo you. After I lost you to my brother the first time, I trained for lifetimes to be ready for you. Then the second time I wooed you again, only to lose you once again to my brother. The third time…I don’t even know why you left me.” I say, true pain filling my voice as I am once again drowning in the sea of her betrayal.

Jess just looks at me, a sad look in her eyes. Then she glances over my shoulder. I turn to look and see that Mel is there, watching everything. Well Mel's three dimensional hologram is there. She watches for a second, a pained look on her face. “Wait Mel, I can…”

Mel holds up a hand. “It’s okay this is from a past life. But I need a moment. I will call you back.”

“Wait, but I just got…”

Click. Our connection ends and I regret ever allowing her to connect through any time after formations.

I was about to tell her about the pass that I can use. The fact that we can meet up. She clearly knew what had happened in my past, as I had told her about all of that. She was aware, at least I thought she was aware.

Then I look to Jess and realize once again she has ruined my life.

I am about to yell at her, but then I realize this is an entirely different person. Then I do likely what I should have done in my past lives. I pull up my communicator and find Jess’ contact band and send data to her.

Ping.

“What is this?”

“That is my brother’s contact information. You probably already know him; he was classmates with your older sister Kelda. Contact him first before you think about doing whatever this is…” I wave my hand around, then trail off. She doesn't follow me. I am still irritated right away, but am able to calm down gradually the farther I get from her.

Fortunately, Mel calls me back a few minutes later.

“You are by yourself?” Mel asks, looking around.

“Yeah.” I answer.

Mel nods. There is an awkward silence as we make our way to our spot. “I got a weekend pass that I can finally use.”

“Save it, I have something I need to do this weekend. We can meet up next weekend.” She states somewhat coldly.

I nod. Not quite knowing what is causing so much stress to be in her voice and actions. Finally, I walk up to our spot and wait.

Pulling out my violin I am about to practice. This is part of our nightly routine now. I feel calm being here in our spot, with her and my violin. That is why I am so distracted when she hits me with her question.

“So, you never said that you still like her.”

Hearing that I let my violin drop as I look at Mel in confusion.